I walk into the humid goat shed in my Tyvex suit and sterilized boots. I look around the pen. Hundreds of sly-looking, inquisitive goats are staring at me intently. They seem unexceptional enough, but ... this is a so-called "transgenic farm" owned and run by Nexia Biotechnologies.

Nexia CEO: "Oh, it's not that weird. What we're doing here is ingeniously simple. We take a single gene from a golden orb-weaving spider and put it into a goat egg. The idea is to make the goat secrete spider silk into its milk. ... We're going to make biodegradable fishing lines out of it. Or maybe tennis racket strings. We call our product BioSteel."

I walk into the humid goat shed in my Tyvex suit and sterilized boots. I look around the pen. Hundreds of sly-looking, inquisitive goats are staring at me intently. They seem unexceptional enough, but ... this is a so-called "transgenic farm" owned and run by Nexia Biotechnologies.

I walk into the humid goat shed in my Tyvex suit and sterilized boots. I look around the pen. Hundreds of sly-looking, inquisitive goats are staring at me intently. They seem unexceptional enough, but ... this is a so-called "transgenic farm" owned and run by Nexia Biotechnologies.

Nexia CEO: "Oh, it's not that weird. What we're doing here is ingeniously simple. We take a single gene from a golden orb-weaving spider and put it into a goat egg. The idea is to make the goat secrete spider silk into its milk. ... We're going to make biodegradable fishing lines out of it. Or maybe tennis racket strings. We call our product BioSteel."